Glimpses of Gossamer
by ScienceGeek
Summary: Grissom gets a rare gift: the chance to see what his life might have been like had he made different choices. [GS] Complete
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: As always I own nothing of CSI, and I gain nothing from these stories but reviews.**

**This story is a WIP but the story is outlined, the first two chapters are written, and the third in progress. The final chapter should be done before the week is out. Thank you to brandie.d for her services as a Beta. Feedback most appreciatively welcomed.**

Gil Grissom woke with a feeling of having forgotten something vitally important. He blinked, his eyes tensing shut against the bright sunlight. He opened them a second time more slowly, bringing one callused hand to his forehead to combat the glare. He felt the skin beneath his hand contract as he frowned, and his stomach tense and roil as he sat up beholding the view before him.

A placid river shimmered beyond an old wooden dock, the only ripple to disturb its waters caused by a leaf as it fluttered off a potted plant at the end of the weathered planks. To either side of him trees blew gently in the wind, the scent of lilac wafted in from his left. Across the river stood more trees-majestic oaks side by side with tall, graceful palm trees. Some of them were oddly balanced on small tufts of land that hadn't been eroded by the falling tide. He could smell salt in the air, and knew they were near the sea, the gentle river before him likely some tributary of whatever ocean loomed near.

It wasn't right.

A screen door slammed behind him, and Grissom turned to see a small girl running down a path from a screened patio. Behind her a brightly painted house stood, its wood gleaming turquoise against the late morning sun. Water from the pool caught the light and sent little beams flitting around the screens. He remembered the little girl laughing at that when they first arrived, telling them how the light liked to dance as much as she did. He felt his forehead tense up again as his frown deepened. He shouldn't remember that, he shouldn't remember this little girl. He shouldn't remember this vacation place. Should he?

"Daddy!" Thoughts of what he should and shouldn't remember were quickly forgotten as the dark haired child launched herself into his arms. Suddenly remembering her, remembering all of this, wasn't so wrong after all. "Did you see me? I dived off the edge of the pool, right into the deep water, did you see me?"

He smiled as he wiped water droplets away from her bright eyes, "No Buglet, I was looking at the river. I'll have to watch you next time."

The little girl giggled as she snuggled up against him, her wet bathing suit dampening his Vegas PD t-shirt. "Mommy didn't even have to catch me this time. I just put my hands over my head, like you said to, and jumped right in. Head first and everything!"

Grissom dropped a light kiss on the girl's dripping hair, "I'm proud of you Jessie…"

"Daddy look!" The child wriggled in his arms, turning to face the house again. "A…a…Summer…Summer…"

He followed the girl's finger to a bright patch of bougainvilleas that hung from a pot suspended on a shepard's hook next to the patio. Balanced delicately amidst the bright red flowers was a butterfly of such a pale blue it was almost silver. Dotted across its powdery wings were simple splotches of white.

"It's a Summer Azure Jessie," Grissom reminded his daughter, "_Celastrina neglecta." _

Jessica giggled again, as she stumbled over the scientific name of the much beloved insect. Finally she jumped off his lap and ran toward the house again, calling over her shoulder, "Latin is silly, Daddy."

He smiled as he watched her dive back into the soft water of the pool, his eyes drifting up to the back entrance to the house. There, half hidden in the shadows of the doorway stood a tall, dark haired woman, her eyes staring right at his.

* * *

"Gil!" Catherine's voice rang through his townhouse as the woman raced across his gray concrete floors. Her phone was already in her hand as she slowed, and dropped to her knees, fingers automatically mashing 9-1-1. "I have an officer down," her voice was rapid, pitched very high as she rattled off Grissom's address to the dispatcher. "Hurry!" Her hand shook as it found his neck, fingers fumbling for a pulse.

Grissom lay sprawled next to an overturned ladder, blood splattered across the floor from the piece of glass wedged in his shoulder. The frame of a shadow box surrounded him, splintered and broken. Near him were the crumpled bodies of several butterflies, the pins still piercing their wings. The antennae of the _Everes comyntas _fluttered in the breeze from the air conditioning, the spots of the _Leptotes cassius _all but hiding it in the pattern of Grissom's throw-rug, and his blood pooling on the pale blue wings of the _Celastrina neglecta. _

"Is he…."

Catherine looked up at the whisper, her eyes seeking those of the questioner. The other woman stood huddled in Grissom's doorway, her dark hair hiding much of her face. Catherine could only see the other woman's eyes-and those were staring right at Grissom.

"He's alive, Sara."

"Thank God."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: See disclaimer in chapter 1. Thank you again to brandie.d for the beta. After discussing this piece with her, I've added another chapter. There will be a total of five. She has part three already. **

The sliding glass door screeched; Grissom winced at the noise, and left the door open behind him as he stepped out onto the terrace. The evening was cool for September. For a moment, Grissom was sure it shouldn't be September at all, but a horn sounding down the street distracted him from such thoughts, and he found his eyes falling toward view. The city lights lay sprawled below him, the distance softening the gaudy neon of the Strip into a kaleidoscopic twinkle. Beyond the cluster of lights the mountains rose up, their craggy tops almost invisible against the night sky. He gripped the iron railing of the balcony tightly, ignoring the two deck chairs that crowded most of the right side of the platform. His knuckles, as he glanced down, were a shocking white contrast to the dark color of the safety rail.

Soft footsteps sounded behind him just before the door screeched again, thumping softly closed. He shut his eyes as gentle arms slid around his waist, encircling him from behind. A smile slipped into place as the pent up air rushed from his lungs. He reached down and took hold of one slim hand, pulling the woman from behind him, placing a kiss on her palm, and then turning her hand over to kiss the gold band that adorned her ring finger. "Hey."

Her smile could still melt him, even now after years together. Even when he wasn't sure they should be here at all, one glance at that smile and even his most melancholy thoughts slid away. "Is she sleeping?"

"Just now." She smiled again, sliding her arm back around his waist so she could lean against his shoulder. She didn't let go of his hand, instead her long fingers moved soothingly over his, "What's wrong?"

"What? Nothing…nothing's wrong."

"Gil…."

He sighed, bringing her fingers back to his lips for another gentle kiss. "It really is nothing. I just…we're losing our baby girl."

He wasn't prepared for the soft chuckle that greeted that statement, nor the way her shoulders shook. He knew that shake-she was trying to hold back deeper laughter. His voice was a little harsher than he intended, "What?"

"Gil…she started first grade." Her voice was soft, no hint of the mirth from moments before. "She didn't go off to join an expedition to Mars."

"Do you think she could do that? Go off to Mars one day?"

"Well not if you don't let her get through first grade." She laughed again but tightened her fingers around his hand, her thumb continuing to softly stroke his skin. "You're going to be fine, you know. I swear."

He turned to look at her, one brow darting up to his hairline. After a moment he smiled, "Okay. We'll let her get through first grade, so she can become an astronaut."

"Of course, from the way she lets your tarantulas scramble all over her, she's going to be an entomologist, like her Daddy."

Grissom laughed then turned to press a kiss against her temple, "You're right. You know…it's good to have you around. It was pretty smart of me to marry you."

"Of course, it took you long enough…"

He lifted his brow again, but she was spared from further comment by a loud wailing from inside the house. "Sounds like Adam is awake, I'll get him…"

* * *

"Sara...Sara!" Catherine turned from where she was crouched next to the fallen Grissom to the woman in the doorway. "He keeps towels in the drawer next to the stove, bring me some…he's still bleeding. There's a first aid kit under the sink. Sara! Focus!"

The other woman jolted, her eyes widening as she stared at the blood pooling around Grissom's shoulder, and darted across the floor to the kitchen area. She threw open several drawers before she found the one with stacks of neatly folded white hand towels. She grabbed several, unmindful of the rest which flew to the floor. Opening the cupboard under the sink Sara tossed several bottles of cleansers and a box of dishwashing detergent across the kitchen before she found the first aid kit. Supplies in hand she jumped up and spun around, banging into the island as she raced to Grissom's side, barely noticing the stab of pain in her arm as she dropped to her knees beside him.

"Here…" Catherine had already torn Grissom's shirt away from the wounds. Sara handed her a towel and watched as the woman pressed it around the chunk of glass sticking out of his shoulder. Sara held the towel in place as Catherine fumbled with the medical tape, clumsily tacking the makeshift bandage down.

Grissom moaned, turning his head to reveal a gash at his temple. "Dammit!" Sara took another cloth, gently pressing it against the still bleeding cut.

"Where the hell are the paramedics?" Catherine's voice came in a growl, "Stay with him Sara, I'm going to meet them. And if they don't hurry…"

Sara nodded, not sparing a thought for the tongue lashing the paramedics would receive when they finally showed up. She kept gentle pressure on the wound on Grissom's head, murmuring softly that he would be fine. Her free hand slipped to his, enclosing it in her gentle grasp letting her thumb caress his skin.

"Sara?"

"Griss…" Thank God! She smiled down at him, increasing the pressure on his hand. "Shhh. Don't try to talk. Catherine's gone to get the paramedics. They'll be here soon. You'll be fine. I swear."

"Sara…" His voice was rough as he tried to keep his eyes focused on her. "Good…to have you here."

A wailing from outside interrupted him. Sara smiled, touching his cheek. "It's all right Gris. The ambulance is here. It's going to be all right."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Disclaimers in chapter 1. Thanks to brandie.d for her help with this chapter. Feedback is always, always appreciated.  
**

He was more than fifty years old, and it took a boy-scout camping trip to make Gil Grissom truly understand the word bedlam. He'd been to crime scenes that were calmer than the drop-off point for the trip. Shaking his head, he pulled his cap down lower over his eyes, glancing out beneath the brim to survey the area. Three busses were parked at odd angles to one another, covering half the school parking lot. Circling the busses like a wagon-train protecting pioneers from dangers were a myriad of parent's cars, SUVs, and even a motorcycle or two. In the expanse of area between the two sets of vehicles milled hundreds of boys, chaperones, and worried moms and dads. The din of squealing kids and shouting adults made Grissom long for the peace of the lab.

Movement at his side had him shooting his arm out to snag a handful of blue Cub Scout uniform. "Hang on there Adam. Let's find out which bus you're on before you go tearing into that mayhem."

"But Dad, Mr. Greamer said we can't be late, or they'll leave without us!"

Grissom crouched down, his eyes meeting the deep brown of his son's. He waited a moment for the boy to calm down, then reached out and ruffled his dark curls. "Relax Adam. The busses can't get out till everyone moves their cars." He gave the boy's hair a gentle tug, before standing to take his hand, "Let's go find Mr. Greamer."

Adam clung to his father's hand as they made their way through the crowds looking for his troop leader. His eyes were wide as he watched all the boys milling about, loading their duffels onto the busses, checking their names on the sign in sheets each chaperone toted about on clipboards, and saying final goodbyes to their parents. "Wish Mom was here."

His dad nodded, "I know. She wanted to be here too. But she had to be in court this morning."

Adam just nodded, tightening his fingers around Grissom's. "Wish Jessie were coming."

Grissom stopped then, and pulled the boy to him in a one-armed hug. "She'd look pretty silly in a boy-scout uniform, wouldn't she? Besides, you know how much she wanted to go to science camp this summer. Next year you'll be old enough to go with her."

"Next year she'll be so old she won't want to go!"

"Probably." Grissom gave the boy one more squeeze before pointing toward his troop leader. "There's Mr. Greamer." He paused once more to look down at the boy, "Adam. You're going to have a great time at camp. And the two weeks will go by before you know it. Everything is going to be all right. I promise."

* * *

"DR. MERRITT TO THE ER! DR. MERRITT TO THE ER!" 

Sterile white walls seemed to amplify the racket of the emergency room. Blares from the PA system, the clatter of carts being thrust across tile floors, cries of children, and the sobbing of adults warred for attention with the shouts of doctors and the ever present beeping from monitoring equipment. The walls magnified, too, the blinding glare from the florescent lights overhead making the people rushing in and out of examination rooms appear as large blurs.

Sara took a shaky breath as yet another voice screeched out over the PA system, barely resisting the urge to cover her ears with her hands. She pushed herself back against the wall as an ambulance crew rushed past pushing a man with a badly bleeding chest wound. One glance at the patient had Sara guessing gunshot wound, given the blood splatter that had also covered the man's face.

She turned away from the scene, tightening her fists against work's intrusions on her thoughts. Her eyes locked back onto the room where Grissom had been taken, the room from which she had been escorted when the doctor had come and gone well more than an hour before. The room she hadn't strayed more than four feet from in the entire time they'd been at Desert Palms. Even as Catherine had been forced to leave, to check on Lindsey then go on for their shift, Sara had stayed behind.

"Sara!"

She jerked, her eyes locking once more on the door to Grissom's room, imagining, for a moment, that he'd been calling to her. But the hand on her shoulder that spun her into an awkward half-embrace was Greg's.

"Sar…Catherine told us Grissom was here." He ran a shaky hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in disarray; so much like the old Greg that had she spared him more than a glance, Sara would have laughed. "So…he's okay, right? What happened?"

"I don't know." Sara turned away again, to look at the door. "He…fell. He never came in for shift last night. We…stopped by his place on the way out of the lab this morning. Found him lying on his floor. He fell and…he hit his head."

"Yeah well," Greg tried smiling, but it came off more like a grimace. "You know Griss, Sar. He's got a hard head."

"Miss Sidle?"

"Yes?" Sara whirled, coming face to face with the doctor she had met so briefly before. He wore a rumpled lab coat that might have been white, a day or two before over wrinkled khaki pants and dirty sneakers. He had a chart in his hand and was rapidly flipping pages, only lifting his eyes to meet hers when she cleared her throat after several moments' silence.

"Ah. Yes. I'm Dr. Mitchell…"

"Yes. I remember."

"Right. Right." He smiled then, glancing from Sara, to Greg, then back to Sara. "Right. Mr. Grissom. Sorry about the delay, we had to wait for records to come in from your office. Privacy rules and all." He glanced at the top sheet in the chart, a memo with the Police Department's header spilled across the top. "According to this, you're the Department's representative, so I can let you know how he's doing."

Sara nodded, taking a deep breath and clenching her hands again. In another moment, she was going to grab the man by the lapels and tell him to get on with it! "So?"

"Right! Right. Mr. Grissom." He gave a quick smile, and then glanced back at the chart. "Well, we've stitched up the wound in his arm. Nothing to worry about there…"

"There was a lot of blood."

Dr. Mitchell nodded, "Yes. But the glass missed the artery. It was all superficial. He's in no danger from blood loss."

"And his head?"

"He does have a concussion. But we've done a CT scan. There is some swelling, but it's very minimal. It should reduce in the next 24 hours." He reached out to pat Sara's arm, moving his hand when she just stared at it. "I wouldn't worry, he should wake by the time the swelling goes down."

Greg stepped up, his face noticeably more pale, and placed his hand in the spot on Sara's arm vacated by Dr. Mitchell. "He's still unconscious? I thought he woke up…"

"Only for a minute Greg." Sara shushed him then, turning back to the doctor. "He did wake up, once, before the ambulance got to him. Could he just be sleeping?"

"With the swelling, I'd say it's a little more than just sleeping. But as I said it's nothing to worry too much about at this point." He turned as a nurse hailed him from the monitoring station, "If you'll excuse me."

Sara moved away from Greg, "Wait. Doctor! Can I see him?"

"Right. He's being moved into a private room. You can see him then, Ms. Sidle."

Sara took a deep breath and turned to Greg. "Swelling Greg…"

"No, come on Sara! You heard the doctor. Everything is going to be all right. I promise."

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N-I am SO sorry for the delay. This chapter wasn't part of my original outline, but I agreed with brandie.d that it was much needed. However, writing it was tough-it just did not want to cooperate! Thanks Brandie! **

**As always-I own nothing of CSI, and make nothing from these stories. **

The stars burned brightly overhead, as far up in the mountains as they were the only thing marring the view of them was the smoke drifting up from the chimney. Sara stood in the clearing in front of their rented cabin, her arms clutched tightly about her shoulders, her eyes tilted up toward the night sky. Trees rustled in the wind, but with the stars giving the only light for miles around, only the barest shadows of their tops stood out against the horizon.

Grissom moved quietly up behind his wife, slipping his jacket over her shoulders before winding an arm around her waist. He smiled as her head came down on his shoulder, her free arm moving around him, completing the embrace. He turned his head and let his lips fall into her dark hair, pressing gentle kisses along her scalp. "Happy Anniversary, Sara."

"Mmmm," she smiled, clasping her hands together so she encircled him completely. "Happy Anniversary, Gil."

"Come back inside," he nodded his head back toward the cabin where a soft orange light seeped out from behind the closed curtains. "It's cold, and I got the fire going."

"Finally?"

He laughed as he led her back toward the front porch, "I never claimed I was a boy scout, you know."

"Oh, I don't know, you do 'be prepared' pretty well," the wind picked up as they reached the porch and Sara snuggled deeper into Grissom's arms. He responded with a smile and by pulling her even more tightly against him. He wound his fingers into her hair as he brought his lips to her neck in a gentle caress.

"Come on, I opened the champagne."

The inside of the cabin was warm, the fire crackling in the huge stone hearth sent tendrils of light dancing across the wide beams of the ceiling. There was only one room, the kitchen was tucked into a corner opposite the fireplace, and the bed stood on a slightly raised platform across the back of the cabin. In front of the fire was a huge overstuffed couch with a small end table made of branches from the nearby trees perched near one arm. On this table sat the silver bucket, a bottle of champagne nestled among the ice. Two crystal flutes rested near the bottle.

As Sara shrugged out of Grissom's jacket he poured the drinks, chuckling softly as the bubbles in one of the glasses foamed up and spilled over his fingers. His laugh turned into a soft gasp as Sara's mouth was suddenly there, removing the spilled champagne from his fingers. Still holding the glasses, Grissom had to content himself with capturing her lips with his; reveling in the taste of the spilled champagne that still lingered on her mouth. He pressed one of the flutes into her hand so he could wrap that arm around her waist, pulling her close against him.

Outside the wind howled and began splattering rain against the windows. Sara turned to peek through the nearly closed curtains. "Look at that. The rain is so fierce up here."

"Let it rain, Sara. There is nowhere in the world I'd rather be than right here."

* * *

The nurse's shoes squelched against the tile floor as she crossed the room to close the blinds against the driving rain. Wind whipped the awnings over the hospital entrance, but the view was soon obscured from those in the room, replaced by blinds in the customary hospital white. 

"There now," the nurse turned to smile at the trio around the bed, "That's better isn't it? Who wants to look at the storm?" She paused by the foot of Grissom's bed, giving his chart a cursory check. "Visiting hours will be ending soon." With a final smile she turned, and left the room.

Sara waited until the door was closed to move back to the window and open the blinds. She stood staring at the sheet of water that cascaded down the glass for a moment, before turning back to look at the man in the bed, "That's better. Grissom…" she paused, taking a steadying breath before going on. "He needs to be connected to the real world. Even if it's only through the window."

"Sar…" Nick moved away from the bed to slip an arm around Sara's shoulders. He didn't seem to notice when her body stiffened at the touch. "Sara…you heard the nurse…visiting hours are almost over. Come on home with us, get some rest. You need it, Sara."

"No. No I'm okay Nick. You go on. The nurses will let me stay."

"That's just it Sara, they've been letting you stay for days. You need to get some rest."

"I rest."

"Not in the chair, Sara! You've been here night and day for ten days! People at the lab are starting to talk. Ecklie's going to…"

"Nick." Sara moved away from the man, stepping closer to the bed. As she reached out to take Grissom's hand in hers she glanced back over her shoulder, "I still have nine weeks of leave on the books, Nick. Nine. Ecklie's just going to have to live with out me for a little longer."

"Sara, sugar, it's been ten days. You need to accept…"

"Nick! That's enough, man." The interruption came from an unexpected quarter. Nick had brought Warrick with him to help convince Sara to go home. He hadn't expected the other man to come down on letting Sara stay at the hospital.

"War…I just meant…"

"We know what you meant, Nick." Warrick rounded the bed to stand next to Sara. "It's good you're here, Sara."

"Warrick…"

"No, man. I'll meet you outside."

Nick sighed, his own footfalls far more harsh against the floor as he crossed to give Sara a quick kiss on the cheek. "You need to take better care of yourself, Sar." When she didn't respond he just shook his head and stalked out the door.

Warrick's hand came down gently on Sara's shoulder, "You take what time you need, you hear? We'll handle things at the lab. We've worked short handed before. You just…you just be, Sara."

"Thank you." Her voice was very soft. Over the years, Warrick had seen Sara in pretty bad shape after cases so horrible he didn't like to remember them. But he had never heard such a lost tone in her voice before. "Listen to me, girl. People wake up from comas, every day. Talk to him, Sara. He'll hear you. People in comas, they hear, they understand. I don't care what the doctors say, Sara…"

"They say they don't know why he isn't awake yet, Warrick. He should be. The swelling is gone…there are no other injuries. He just…won't wake up."

Warrick nodded, and then pulled her closer to him, "Then you just talk to him, Sara. You make him want to wake up."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: First, let me thank everyone who has been so kind with the feedback for this story. It has really made my day several times! Second, this story is, for all intents and purposes, finished. I do have a short epilouge planned, however, since both my wonderful beta, brandie.d, and I think the story needs a little more.**

Pomp and Circumstance still sounded softly over the public address system, even as the graduate's names were being announced. Beside him, Sara grinned at the technical glitch, "Do you think she arranged that?"

Grissom answered her grin with one of his own, glancing up at the rafters of the auditorium at the technicians scrambling to fix the problem. "I wouldn't put it past her. She could have played the music herself, the way she's been humming it onto our answering machine for the last month."

Sara laughed, "Be serious Gil. She's proud of herself. So am I."

He smiled and pulled Sara closer to him, kissing that spot on her temple that was the first to start showing gray. He loved that little tuft of silver, and Sara had long ago stopped fussing when he kissed it. "I am proud of her. Even if you were wrong about the entomology degree."

Sara laughed, leaning into his embrace, "I am so sorry. You'll just have to settle for the next Dr. Grissom in the family having her degree in physics."

"Just like her mom."

She would have answered him, but just at that moment she noticed the young woman with her father's curls approaching the platform. Sara grabbed Grissom's arm, "There, Gil. There she is!"

"Yes." He sighed, tightening his arm around his wife, "Our little girl."

Over the loudspeaker, just audible over the rendition of Pomp and Circumstance still escaping the technicians, came the announcement they'd been waiting for. "And with PhDs in physics are Damon Augerbandangi, Richard Delles…" Sara and Grissom watched as the two young men stepped forward to receive their degrees, leaning forward as their daughter mounted the steps to the dais. "And Jessica Grissom."

Grissom was sure he spotted tears in Sara's eyes as the girl…he didn't care how old Jessie got, she was always his girl…took her degree. The little girl he'd once taken to the fields to capture butterflies was now Dr. Grissom, theoretical physicist. He wouldn't be surprised if she did get to Mars one day.

"She looks great, doesn't she?"

Grissom turned to their son, who had just appeared at Sara's elbow. "She does. And you're late."

"Sorry dad. I was on my way in and there was this…"

"Girl," Sara finished for him. "Adam, you're such a flirt."

"Dad says you were quite the flirt in your day, Mom."

"Adam!" laughing she gave the young man a soft shove, "Go down and bring your sister out to the fountain once she's clear of the crowd. We'll meet you there, I need to talk to your father."

"Yes Ma'am!"

Sara slipped her arm through Grissom's as the pair made their way out of the auditorium. "It was a wonderful ceremony, wasn't it?"

He nodded, "Even if they never did get the PA system working correctly."

Sara laughed for a moment, before her face turned still. "And we've had a wonderful life together?"

"Sara. You know we have."

She sighed. "Yes. Yes we have. It's too bad that it's all wrong."

"Wrong?" Heedless of the throngs of people pushing by them, Grissom turned and clutched Sara's shoulders. "Honey, what do you mean, wrong? I thought…"

"Griss…" Sara reached up to lay a hand on his cheek, "I love you. I've always loved you. But this…." She waved her other hand around the bright Boston afternoon, "This isn't right. You know that."

"No, Sara. It's always been right."

"It's not real."

He could feel his throat tightening as he tried to answer, "It's the only thing that ever has been, Sara."

"I need you. Can't you see that?"

"Sara. You have me. You've always had me."

"No." The tears in her voice and catch in her throat panicked him. He held her closer, hands moving to sooth the frown screaming across her face. "Close your eyes Gil."

"Sara."

"Griss please."

As he did Sara lifted her lips to his, the gentle brush of their daughter's long gone butterflies. "Remember Griss."

"Remember what…." He was interrupted by Sara's fingers over his lips, and her soft shushing. Then it wasn't Sara's voice he was hearing anymore, but Warrick's deep tones. His voice was…sad? Why would he be remembering Warrick being sad?

"Then you just talk to him, Sara. You make him want to wake up."

Wake up? Grissom's eyes flew open, "No!"

* * *

Sara moved a cool cloth over his brow, ignoring the soft latch of the door as it opened. She didn't pause in her ministrations, just hummed a tune she'd probably recognize, if she bothered to stop and think about it for a moment. "There. That feels better, doesn't it?" 

"Sara?" Sara turned to smile at the nurse as the young woman handed her a cup of coffee. "I thought you could use this. Three sugars."

"Thank you, Nancy." Sara lifted the styrofoam cup to her lips, blowing across the steaming liquid. "There hasn't been any change…"

"I know." She made a show of looking at his chart, but knew the likelihood of anything being different from her last rounds was slim. "It's only been three weeks Sara…." Her voice trailed off, her reassurances sounding hollowly in the room. "I'll uhm. I'll check on you two later."

Sara watched the nurse leave with a sigh, then settled back in her chair and picked a book off the stand near the bed, "Where were we? Right. Thomas Young's biography. Do you know," she looked up as she spoke, her eyes searching his face for any sign of recognition, "Do you know they're calling him 'the last man who knew everything'? I think that's only because the authors haven't met you." She reached out again, her long fingers grazing gently over his temple before she settled in to read.

She hadn't finished more than a chapter or two before she slammed the book shut, and let it slip to the floor. "Dammit Grissom!"

She stood then, and walked to the window. "Ecklie's been hinting that if I don't come back soon, Grissom, that I might not have a job to go back to. What do you want me to do? Griss…please." Her voice deepened, tears warring with the words as they rushed to come out. "You have to wake up. You have to come back from wherever you are. Come back here, Grissom. I can't just sit here, every day for the rest of our lives. But how can I leave you like this? Answer me, Gil Grissom!"

She turned back to face the bed then, fingers clenching against the sides of her legs. "Griss. I need you."

For long moments Sara couldn't even hear the steady beep of the monitoring equipment nestled next to Grissom's bed. Finally she broke the silence with a long sigh, and crossed the room to retrieve the book from where it had slipped under the bed. Quietly she closed the cover, and placed it back on the bedside table, taking the cool cloth again from the plastic basin. She didn't speak as she ran it over his face, gently tracing each familiar line. When she finished, she let the cloth drop back to the table and brushed her fingers softly over his lips.

"No!"

Sara gasped as Grissom's eyes flew open, her hand darting back to her side. "Gris…Grissom? God, Grissom, can you hear me?"

"No." His voice was hoarse, craggy from disuse. But it was definitely his voice.

In a moment her hand was back on his face, smoothing hair back from his forehead, tracing a gentle line across his lips, patting his cheek softly. "Grissom. Open your eyes. Please, come on back to me now."

"No. Happy…"

She frowned, confused. "No Grissom. No one is happy that you're sleeping. No one. Come on, wake up now." Her voice was thick as she urged him, "Please Gil. Please wake up."

"Sara?" His eyes flickered for a moment, before the lids dropped heavily back down. "Can't come back. Lose you."

"What? No. No Grissom. You won't lose me. I'm right here. I've always been right here. Please."

"Sara? You're here?" His eyes opened then, they were bleary and cloudy, but still his eyes. Open and fixed on her. His hand moved slightly, fingers reaching toward her.

She felt a sob build in her throat as she clutched at his hand. "Yes Grissom. I'm here. Always."

"Always." He smiled then, squeezing her fingers, "Good."


	6. Epilogue

**A/N: Now this story is really finished. Thanks for staying with me, I know it ended up taking longer than I assumed it would. That's the last time I _ever_ make predictions! Thank you to EVERYONE who reviewed this story. You can't know how much those reviews meant to me. And thank you to brandie.d for her awesome beta-ing job. And it goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway, any mistakes left are purely my own. **

** As always, I own nothing of CSI but five seasons of DVDs and a neat little cap. **

* * *

Epilogue 

It seemed to Sara that the next minutes had happened in fast-forward. As soon as she'd hit the call button, Grissom's room erupted in activity. Nurses rushed to his bedside, checking his vitals, asking inane questions that Grissom barely tolerated, poking and prodding him till Sara was almost afraid he would slip back into the coma just to escape them. When the doctors arrived, not long after Grissom had growled at having his temperature checked, Sara felt his hand slip from hers as she was pushed to the side of the room. She tried to keep eye-contact, tried to reassure him that she was still there, that she wasn't going anywhere but white-clad bodies kept getting in her line of vision.

By the time Catherine arrived and the room had cleared out Grissom was sleeping again. But the young tennis-shoes clad doctor, whom Sara had dubbed "Dr. Doogie" in her mind, assured her that this time, he really was just sleeping.

That was all the encouragement Catherine needed, and she'd turned immediately on Sara and insisted that the younger woman go home, eat, shower, and sleep. "Hell, who knows? You might even show up at the office Sara, and save your job."

Sara resisted even then-not wanting to leave while Grissom was still asleep. But Warrick's arrival and his quiet promise to stay with Grissom until she returned had her capitulating. "But you'll call me; if he needs anything or…just…you'll call?"

Warrick nodded as he pulled her into his arms. "The second he needs anything. Promise. Now go. Get some sleep." He smiled as he let her go, his green eyes peering warmly into hers. "You did good, Sara."

That has been nearly twenty hours before. Sara slept through ten of them before taking the promised meal and shower. And she went into the lab, spoke with Ecklie, worked her shift. She'd been surprised at how quickly he'd agreed to keeping her on-she'd expected to keep her job in the long run, she'd had over nine weeks vacation time, but she hadn't expected him to be so gracious and forgiving about her sudden three-week departure. The eight-hour shift had crawled by, but now, finally, she was back at the hospital.

Sara was almost nervous as she hovered outside Grissom's door, hand raised to knock. Would he really want to see her? She knew what he'd said when he woke, how tightly he'd clung to her hand…but he'd been confused, just coming out of a three week coma. She knew everything had changed for her, but what if nothing had really changed for him?

She was saved from knocking when the door flew open, Warrick grinning down at her from the other side. At her look of surprise he just chuckled, "What? I'm a trained observer, Girl. I heard you sneaking around out here." He turned back toward the room then, "Told you she'd be back Griss." He leaned in to place a soft kiss against Sara's hair, "It's all I could do to keep him in bed…he's been itching to get up and come find you. Go on…and please put you both out of your misery, once and for all."

Suddenly Warrick was gone, striding down the hall, and Sara was alone with Grissom.

"Sara…"

Her eyes snapped to his, his gaze so intense she couldn't bring herself to break it. She was mortified to feel the tears welling in hers, but seeing him awake, staring at her when she'd been afraid she'd never see his eyes alive and aware again was just too much. She blinked quickly, managing to sever the breathless contact. "Griss…I'm…I'm so glad you're awake. I…Do you need anything? Are you comfortable? Can I…"

"Sara."

"…get you anything or…"

"Sara!"

She stopped abruptly, her eyes once more going to his. "Sorry. I…over talking?"

"Yes." Grissom lifted his hand, his fingers extending slowly toward her. "Come here." He paused, a smile hinting around his dry lips, "Please."

She crossed the room slowly, almost hesitant as she reached out to take his outstretched hand. As his fingers closed tightly on hers she let out a small sigh, letting her eyes drift shut as she savored the feeling.

"I ah…I was afraid you weren't coming back…"

Her eyes flew open, "No Griss I…"

"It's…" He paused, his voice breaking off dryly as coughing replaced his words. Sara released his hand, taking a cup from the bedside stand and filling it with water from the plastic pitcher. She held the straw to his lips as he gulped the liquid. "Thank you…"

"Griss. Maybe you shouldn't be talking."

"No Sara. I…I have something to say." Once she replaced the water he took her hand again, his fingers closing tightly around her own. "Warrick told me…how long you stayed. He…explained. I…God Sara. I knew then…that you would be coming back. I'm…I'm glad. Happy. I want you to stay."

"Of course I'll stay, Griss. I…God. Of course I'll stay."

"Always Sara. I want you to stay, always."

"Griss…"

"No. I should have said it years ago. I was…a fool. And afraid."

Sara stared at him, her eyes breaking away from his only to drop down to their joined hands, his grip so tight on hers that she could see his knuckles begin to whiten. As she lifted her gaze to his again, she could feel tears beginning to burn her vision. "Griss. What…what are you saying?"

"That I'm sorry. I'm….I'm sorry. And I hope I didn't wait too long to tell you. I was…a fool. And I might have lost you, and…I don't want to lose you. Because…because I love you."

"You….you love me?"

"Yes." With his free hand, Grissom reached up very slowly, tracing the line of a tear as it fell down her cheek. "Yes."

"You love me." A sob escaped before she could stop it and she leaned her head into his immediately comforting hand. "God." She looked up, blinking tears away, "Okay. I uhm…You know I love you too." She looked back down then, letting a smile blossom across her face. "Anything else we should talk about?"

Grissom smiled, his fingers gently stroking her cheek, "Yes. How do you feel about the name Jessica?"

End


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